


White Wedding

by Niamh



Series: Originsverse [10]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25447318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niamh/pseuds/Niamh
Summary: Sometime in the future, Dawn might actually be happy.
Relationships: Dawn Summers/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Spike/Buffy Summers
Series: Originsverse [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/17456
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	White Wedding

_[A/N: This is for the 10th Anniversary Art-before-Fic-athon for Elysian Fields. And I very nearly didn’t sign up for this– in fact, it was late in the game (after round 2 even) when I finally screwed my courage to the sticking post and sent an email requesting a banner. I was struggling (still am) with another challenge posted on the site and just couldn’t see my way around attempting another one, without some serious thought. But, since I was one of the first people (other than the founders) to be invited to post, I figured I needed to suck it up and do it. I remember when there was one column of names under the authors section – and I remember being thrilled when someone else got added. Now, there are thousands of authors and a fandom that I thought was dying back in 2007 has resurged like no one expected. Despite some wrangling and disagreements, this site remains ‘home’ for me, and I’m sure quite a few others. So, thanks to the original mods, and the new ones, for keeping this place alive and active. Enormous thanks to my editor, my bestie, and she knows who she is (she’s very shy); without her input this would have been shit on a shingle. And wouldn’t you know it – I tore my rotator cuff while I was trying to get this done. So literally, a work of blood, sweat and tears. Disclaimers, as always, are in full force and effect. I own nothing but the original characters (they might be recognizable!).]_

“You want to what when?” Buffy was elbows deep in suds, scrubbing away at the pots and pans left from the previous night’s dinner. She hadn’t been listening closely to what Dawn had been babbling about until something she’d blurted had caught her attention. Turning away from the sink, Buffy ignored the soap suds dripping from her hands onto the floor. “Say what?”

Dawn rolled her eyes, casually drumming her fingers on the counter. “Didn’t you hear me the first time?”

Buffy barely pulled off the sheepish-yet-slightly-aghast look and tone. “Would I be asking if I did?”

The younger Summers huffed out a breath. “I said I wanted to get married on Halloween.”

The blond Slayer blinked at her, mouth dropping open. “Huhhh?”

Exasperated, Dawn rolled her eyes and repeated herself for the third time.

“Are you serious?” Disbelief flooded through Buffy. “You’re too young.”

“I’m twenty-one!” Dawn stopped the drumming, slapping her hands flat on the countertop. “I graduated from college!”

“Halloween, Dawn. It’s crazy. And like six months away!” Finally realizing the water was still running and the sink was in danger of overflowing, Buffy turned off the faucet, then dried off her hands.

“Yeah. I know that.” The drumming started up again. “It’s the only night of the year guaranteed to have most monsters sitting at home, so plus there. Secondly, neither one of us wants a big wedding and this way we can invite people like Clem and Lorne without ‘normal’ people freaking out.” She used air quotes, which just wigged Buffy out even more.

“But . . . it’s weird!” Buffy was grasping at straws and both of them knew it.

Another sigh escaped the brunette. “Seriously not. For all those reasons.”

Catching the stubborn glint in the blue eyes so like Spike’s, Buffy decided against further argument on the date. Changing tactics, she blurted out the other objection she had. “But it’s Wesley!”

Dawn’s expression changed, her face softening and lighting up. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you hear what she wants to do? What they want to do?”

It was hours later and Buffy still hadn’t wrapped her head around Dawn’s announcement. She and Spike were out, doing a quick patrol. Dawn was home with their twins, no doubt drawing up the guest list for her May-December Halloween wedding.

Spike glanced at her as she walked next to him. Even after all this time, he was surprised at what sometimes escaped her notice. Though he hadn’t wanted to believe it, and sometimes had reservations about it, Spike had known about Dawn’s feelings for Wesley almost from the beginning. He wasn’t sure he could, or should, point that out. Never knew which way the Slayer would jump when it came to family matters. “Told me about it.”

Her reaction didn’t disappoint him. “They told you? When did they do this? How come they didn’t tell me?”

There was hurt and anger mixed into her tone, which was easy for him to recognize. “Oxford came to me right off, before they started stepping out. Wanted to make sure it was all right with me.”

“So you knew? How come you didn’t tell me?” More hurt than anger now and Spike knew trouble was on the horizon.

“Sweetheart, you knew they were spending time together. Hardly a secret there.” He grabbed her hand as she angled away from him. “Slayer. . .”

Bewildered hazel eyes met his and he could see the anger had evaporated, only hurt swirling in the green-gold hue. “Dating I understood. But this is marriage. With rings and everything. I didn’t think they’d gotten that close.”

An ironic chuckle emerged from him. “She’s been sweet on him since she was fourteen, love. You knew that too.”

Buffy wailed out a protest. “That was a crush! It wasn’t supposed to last!”

The chuckle turned to a loud guffaw, even as he was pulling her closer. “Oh, pet.”

“She’s not old enough!” The exclamation was plaintive, and he knew she was only half serious with her objections. “And it’s Wesley! He’s too old for her!”

A raised eyebrow and a smirk were the only responses he needed to give for the last bit.

“That’s different.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “I blame you for this. You and Giles.”

He was still laughing at her. “Me? What do Rupert and I have to do with this?”

She was talking over him, rambling on about “older British men with sexy voices and sinister charm and how it must have warped Dawnie’s brain.”

“Oh, kitten, do you hear yourself?” Spike held her hands as she tried slapping his chest.

“Halloween, Spike! She wants to marry Wesley on Halloween!” Buffy was pouting now, not looking like an almost thirty year old mother of twins. “It’s demented. The whole situation is crazy.”

Calmly, he pointed out the logic of the choice. “Getting hitched in the spring is out, what with the annual goings on. . . Bit’s better off with an autumn date, an’ Halloween is the best choice.”

She mumbled into his chest. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Admit it had me upset for a bit . . . but if we try to forbid it, we lose both of them. An’ that’s not somethin’ I’d want. Wager you don’t either.”

Her arms went naturally to encircle his waist, hugging him tight. “No. I don’t want that. But . . . it’s just . . . I’m not ready for this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn knew she’d been difficult, it was hard not to notice when no one wanted to be around her and no one wanted to discuss the wedding either. But she was worried. Scared and upset. She wanted everything to be just right. It had to be perfect.

Lying in bed three days before the wedding, Dawn was going over every last detail and all the things she had to do. Wesley and the others were picking up their suits; the girls were scheduled for nail appointments throughout the day. Her final fitting was at noon. Other minor details had to be seen to . . . and her nerves were once again getting the better of her. Anxiety and nausea roiled through her belly, unsettling her even more.

It was obvious that Wesley’s parents didn’t fully approve of their marriage and some of her own friends were also in the not-so-fond camp. Buffy was still wigged out, though she tried very hard to hide it. None of that had mattered, not entirely, but now . . . now there was doubt and trepidation.

The night before, Spike had spent a good portion of the dinner hour trying to calm her down. He’d succeeded, at least until this morning.

Dawn stretched, then glanced at the clock. _Nine. . . Oh crap!_ Her nail appointment was in forty-five minutes and she needed to get moving. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Dawn at first didn’t register what she was seeing.

Her hand – her whole arm – was green. Green. And not just a pretty pale light green. No, this was full-on vibrant _I just woke up in Oz_ green. Trying not to freak, Dawn scrambled for the full-length mirror in the corner of her room. Stepping in front of it, she stared at herself. Every inch of her skin, even her toes, was a horrifyingly lovely shade of green. Panic flooded her veins and she tried – and failed spectacularly – to stifle the shriek building in her throat.

It was loud enough to shake the walls and draw the attention of everyone in the house. Doors flung open, the patter of feet heading in her direction did nothing to help the climb of anxiety in her bones. The shrieks turned to soft whimpers and tears slipped from her – thankfully – still blue eyes.

Spike, who had still been sleeping, was the first to reach her. He stopped short in the bathroom doorway, his mouth opened wide in shock. Blinking heavily, Spike took a moment to register the sight before him.

Dawn stared at her hand, ignoring the growing clamor behind her.

“Bit?” Spike’s voice broke her stupor. Finally turning to look at everyone in the bathroom with her, Dawn’s gaze met Buffy’s eyes.

“I’m green!” The quaver in her voice was enough to get everyone moving.

Robbie giggled, leaning against Spike’s leg, while Kirstie approached her older sister. “Dawnie? What happened?”

Buffy had her hand over her mouth and the look on her face had Dawn bursting into full blown sobs. Spike leaned past Kirsten to take her into his arms. “Oh, Bit. We’ll figure it out.”

“Mommy?” Kirstie reached out to touch Dawn. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Dawn whimpered loudly as Buffy continued to try and reassure her younger daughter. “But Daddy’s right. We’ll figure it out and Sissy will be back to normal for the wedding.”

Another high-pitched wail escaped from Dawn as she realized the wedding was only three days away. “Ahhhhhh!”

She barely acknowledged the still giggling little boy, until Spike thwapped the back of his head. “Knock it off, Nipper.”

Which only helped for a little while, until Kirstie mumbled, “Mom, she looks like the Wicked Witch from the movie.” The little girl paused, wide eyes gaping, fear evident in her voice. “She’s not evil, is she?”

Robbie’s renewed giggles were drowned out by Dawn’s distressed exclamation. “I am _**not**_ Elphaba!”

At that, neither Kirstie nor Buffy could hold it and their laughter joined Robbie’s. Spike growled at them, making all three laugh even harder when he said, “We could always get these two dressed as flying monkeys.”

Dawn tried stamping her feet and slapping him at the same time, crying out, “It’s not funny! I’m supposed to be getting married in three days! What am I gonna do?”

Spike sighed, tucking Dawn into his side, all the while glaring at Buffy in an attempt to get control of the situation. “No worries, Sweets, we’ll get the big brains on it.”

She sniffled, wiping her face on his shirt. “Kay.”

Buffy’s laughter tapered off, and she reached out to hug Dawn. “C’mon, you’ve got things to do. Spike will get Giles and Wesley working on it.”

“What? No! Wesley? _**NO!**_ You can’t tell him!” Dawn started ranting, waving her hands around wildly. “No. No. _**NO!**_ ”

“All right. Let’s go, rugrats.” Spike herded the twins out, leaving the two older Summers women alone. He leaned close to Buffy’s ear, whispering so only she could hear him. “Handle this, pet.”

The bathroom was cleared moments later. Dawn was perched on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on her knees, her face buried in her hands. Tears seeped between her fingers and she sniffled continuously. Buffy sat beside her, one hand automatically patting the younger woman on the back. “Breathe, Dawnie.”

Dawn sat up, turning slightly to face the Slayer. “I’m trying. I am. But this is just . . . I can’t take any more stress.”

“Spike’s calling Giles. We’ll get those big squishy brains working and have an answer soon. I promise.” Buffy ran her fingers through Dawn’s hair. “You’ve got a lot of things to do. You can’t sit here doing nothing while we get you back to normal.”

“I can’t . . .I can’t go out looking like this!”

A sigh shook Buffy. “Sweetie, you have a lot to do and no one’s going to think this is weird. It’s Sunnydale. All we have to tell anyone – if they even notice – is that you’re going to a Halloween party.”

“Not funny.” Dawn stood up, reaching for her bathrobe. “We’re canceling the rehearsal.”

“What? Why?” She could hear the concern lacing Buffy’s tone of voice, but Dawn didn’t care.

“I cannot let Wesley see me like this.” She had one arm crossed in front of her protectively, the other straight at her side.

“He’s not going to care, Dawnie. He’s going to understand. Wesley loves you.” Buffy reached out to hug her. “He won’t stop loving you because you’re green.”

The anxiety and fear raised up again and Dawn could feel the agitation rising. She ran her hand down her forearm and yelped. “I’ve got bumps!”

She brought her hands up to her face, running her fingers over her forehead. “I’m going to sprout horns! **_THIS IS . . . augh!_** ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty-six hours later, Giles and Spike were still at a loss. They’d made little to no progress in trying to find out why Dawn had suddenly turned green. Nor had they discovered how to revert her back to her normal coloring.

Dawn had been adamant about not telling Wesley what had happened, so they’d been unable to take advantage of his research abilities and brain power.

Unbeknownst to them, Wesley had reached the end of his patience. He’d been understanding when Dawn had refused to see him. Been sympathetic when she didn’t show up at the rehearsal – but he’d had enough. His parents were hosting a dinner for them and tension was high enough without adding Dawn’s issues. Roger Wyndam-Pryce had been opposed to their marriage from the beginning and his mother, as always, deferred to her husband.

He was on the phone with Dawn, doing his utmost to convince her she needed to appear at the restaurant. He wasn’t above using a little emotional blackmail. “Dawn, sweetheart, my parents are looking forward to getting to know you. This is very important to them.”

Her silence was laden with anxiety. “Wesley, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

His exasperation was quick to show. “I’ve gone along with all your whims and conditions without objection.” He paused, looking up at the front of the house. “I hardly think I’m asking too much of you.”

He could hear her breathing as she contemplated his request. “Wes . . . I _really_ . . .”

Wesley had had enough. The excuses of the last day and a half were bordering on the absurd. He’d seen neither hide nor hair of her and his own misgivings were being magnified by whatever crisis she was having and her subsequent avoidance. “Sweetheart, if you’re having second thoughts and are about to call the whole thing off, please tell me now.”

“What? Why would I do that? No!” Her voice got even more apprehensive, the timbre rising to an almost shriek. “No. Wesley, just no.”

A weight lifted from his shoulders and the twisting of his stomach eased somewhat. He also lost any guilt over what he was about to do. Taking the steps two at a time, Wesley approached the front door. “That’s a relief, my dear. I was beginning to worry.”

“No, Wes. I do not want to call off the wedding.” Dawn was effusively attempting to convince him that she was ready to get married.

He opened the front door, slipping past the twins, who were sprawled in front of the television, and was up the stairs to Dawn’s room without them noticing. At the top of the stairs he could hear her still babbling and he switched off his phone. Her voice was muffled coming to him through her closed door, but he didn’t care. She was close.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley opened the door. Her back was to him and she was clad in her pajamas. She was staring out the window. “Are you hearing me?”

“Yes. I am.”

Dawn turned around and Wesley finally understood why she’d been avoiding him for the last day and a half.

“Sweetheart. . .” He stared at her, an inappropriate grin flitting across his features. “At least I know you still love me.”

She wailed out his name. “Why are you here?”

“Because I’ve missed you.” He watched while she flung the phone onto her bed and stepped away from him.

“So now you know why I didn’t want to see you.” She was vibrating with tension and he could practically feel her fear.

Countering her step backward, Wesley got closer, invading her space. He grinned, staring into her eyes. “Your eyes are very blue right now.”

“That’s because the rest of me is very green.”

Those blue eyes filled with tears and Wesley used his thumb to wipe them away. “Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

“I’m green.” She crumpled in the face of his compassionate reaction. “I’m ugly.”

“Hardly. You’re simply differently hued.”

Her head dropped to rest on his chest. “You did not just go there.”

A chuckle finally escaped him. “I believe I did.”

His arms encircled her and Wesley kissed the top of her head. “Get dressed, my dear. We’re set to meet my parents in an hour.”

“What?” She shook her head in denial as she stepped away from him. “There’s no way.”

Wesley stepped back, his hands gripping her shoulders. “It’s all going to work out, dearest. We’ll just tell my parents you appeared in the play. Not to worry.”

It wasn’t hard for him to see the confusion swirling in her blue eyes. Although now he could also see a growing confidence . “Are you sure?”

“Wholeheartedly.” He kissed her forehead, then reached for his phone. “May I assume that Giles and Spike have been researching this at the shop?”

She shoved him from the room, grumbling about getting ready.

His walk down the stairs was automatic, his attention fully on the situation with his fiancee. Tapping the keypad on his phone, Wesley waited patiently for the call to connect.

“Magic Box, how may I help you?” Anya’s business tone was a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil he’d just been through.

“Hello, Anya. Is Giles still there?”

“Wesley! Yes. He’s here.” He waited patiently while his friend and colleague reached the phone.

“I’ve seen Dawn.” Wesley spoke before Giles, getting straight to the point. “Have you found anything to help?”

“Hold on, let me transfer you to the speaker so Spike can contribute.”

Wesley was in the hallway, eyeing the twins, who still hadn’t realized he was in the house. Buffy came in from the kitchen, laundry basket in hand, and she stopped to stare at him.

“Uh. Hi, Wes. Why are you here?” She tried blocking his path to the stair. Her voice was overly loud, as if to alert everyone – Dawn, the twins, and half a dozen neighbors – to his presence.

He shook his head, smiling at her attempt at stealth. “I’ve already been upstairs.”

The mirth warred with sympathy for Dawn’s predicament. “Ah. Yeah. Okay.” Quickly turning from him, Buffy called on the twins. “C’mon, you two. Time to get ready.”

“Oxford.” Spike’s voice came through loud and clear, steadying Wesley’s nerves. “Seen the Bit, have you?”

“I have.” He fought the humor, focusing only on a solution. “Any ideas?”

“Couple of ‘em. None fit.” Exasperated frustration laced the vampire’s response. “Thinking of a general reversal.”

It was a good plan, though Wesley suspected it wouldn’t address the underlying cause of the change of pigmentation and he was against mixing magic with unknown factors. Ordinarily, Spike would have been the first to argue against it, which told him exactly how desperate the vampire was to find a solution. “When did this happen?”

“She woke up like this yesterday.” Buffy supplied the answer as she was herding the twins up the stairs.

The wheels starting turning and Wesley listened as the other two Englishmen listed all the remedies they’d attempted. So far, according to their recounting, nothing had worked. Not the skin cleansing baths, not the crystal shower – nothing had been successful. Which explained why they were going to attempt the general reversal spell.

“I think you should wait. I’ve an idea, but I need a bit of time.” He paced through the living room idly listening to the sounds from the second floor. “We’ve little time to prepare it tonight in any case.”

There was dissenting noise from the two on the other end of the call. He had anticipated it somewhat. “Dinner with my parents is scheduled for less than forty-five minutes from now. I suggest we all be ready.”

A suspicion had begun forming the instant he’d laid eyes on his bride-to-be. She’d been stressed and acting somewhat petulantly for the last several weeks. Snapping at everyone, including the twins, who were normally exempt from her moodiness. Peevish and short tempered had best described her recent behavior. Wesley was starting to think that perhaps the change in her skin tone was a direct manifestation of her inner turmoil. No amount of reassurance from anyone but him would likely work. He’d like to see what happened after the meal with his parents – testing his theory without resorting to magic usage.

The only way to tell, though, was to give it some time. Time and patience.

Both of which were in regrettably short supply . . .

Hours later, Wesley’s suspicions were proving to have some basis in fact. They’d fed his parents the line about her recently appearing in a local production of the Wizard of Oz and there had been an unfortunate problem with the stage makeup. Cautioning the children to keep their comments quiet had worked for the most part, although Robbie’s laughter had to be stifled periodically.

As the night waned, Dawn’s unease had begun dissipating and her hue had changed slightly. Wesley had only noticed because he’d been paying very close attention to her all night. Pink had replaced green on her palms and the spot behind her ears. He had reassured her over and over that he loved her and that he couldn’t wait to be married to her. It had helped, though he suspected that it still might be necessary to speed things along with a general reversal. But only because he knew she’d want to look like herself and they had less than thirty-six hours before the actual ceremony.

He’d suspected that Dawn’s anxiety had triggered some of her latent keyness, manifesting as an outward change in her skin tone. The fact that it had started fading as the night progressed merely reinforced his supposition.

Wesley glanced to his right, where Dawn sat beside him. Their hands were tightly clasped, though her gaze was averted from the sight. Instead her eyes were focused on the water, the waves ebbing and flowing against the shoreline. He’d done his best to shield her from his father’s condescension and disdain and was currently uncertain of his success. There had been enough confusion and consternation over Dawn’s skin tone that questions of her parentage and upbringing were nearly forgotten.

It had been something of a relief to him and he hoped that Dawn’s apprehension had been assuaged. He’d opened his mouth to begin speaking, but Dawn’s low voice broke into his ruminations.

“I’ve been driving everyone crazy. Buffy, Spike . . . everyone. No one wants to be around me, because of the crazy. It’s so bad, I don’t want to be around me.” She huffed out a tiny chuckle, then sobered quickly. “The only excuse I have is the worry that I won’t be good enough. That I won’t make you happy. That I’ll screw up and it will all fall apart.”

She finally turned to look at him. “For some strange reason, everyone put up with me. And the best I can come up with is because they love me.” Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he could feel the tension seeping from her. “I’m the luckiest girl. I have a family that loves me no matter how bitchy I get and I have you, who still loves me even when I’m at my worst.” A self-deprecating giggle emerged from her. “Even if I’m green.”

He let go of her hand, pulling her close. “I’m the lucky one, Dawn.” He dropped a kiss on her temple. “I’m so very lucky.”

The soft sound of her laughter wafted up to the stars. “We’re both lucky.”

“That we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my God. I look like a freaking cupcake.” Dawn posed in front of the mirror, an unhappy expression on her features. “Why the hell did you let me get this one?”

Buffy stared at her, amusement flaring in her eyes. “ _Let_ you? I don’t think that was part of the equation when _you_ decided on this one.”

“Then what the heck was I thinking?” Dawn lifted her skirt, looking down at the pale green tulle surrounding her. “Seriously. What the _hell_ was I thinking?”

Finished tying the ribbons on the back of Kirstie’ dress, Buffy shook her head. “You’re just realizing now, this minute, how crazy a light green wedding dress might be?”

Dawn threw a nasty look over her shoulder at the other woman. “I know _what_ I was thinking. I’m just really wondering why you didn’t try harder to talk me out of it.”

Ignoring the complete insanity of Dawn’s current musings, Buffy motioned for Kirstie to sit on the bed. “C’mon, sweetie, you need to get your shoes on, so your sister can get married and finally be sane again.”

“What’s zaneagain?” Kirstie ran the words together, looking up at her mother. “You look pretty, Mommy.”

“You know, that’s a good question. I have no idea what’s sane around here.” Slipping the sparkly shoes onto the five-year old’s feet, Buffy thanked her for the compliment. “You look very pretty too. And so does your sister, despite her regrets. Thankfully, she’s no longer green, so she doesn’t clash with her dress.”

Spike leaned into the partially opened door, his eyes drawn to the slender yet curvy form of his love. “You all look lovely. Are we ready to head out?”

“I look like a cupcake reject from the Lord of the Rings.” Dawn slid one foot into the sparkly silver shoe waiting on the floor. “Either that or Cinderella’s stand-in.”

Stepping into the room, Spike glanced at all his girls. “No, Bit. You look all grown up.” He stood beside the clearly still nervous bride. “Hold on a minute. There were no cupcakes in Lord of the Rings!”

A chorus of groans greeted his lame attempt to diffuse the obvious tension, and Dawn whirled on him with, bouquet in hand, all set to whap him. Buffy reached for the pretty purple and white bouquet from her before she could advance on Spike. “Not the flowers, Dawnie!”

He grabbed the flowers from her hand quickly tossing them to Buffy, pulling Dawn into a twirl, the frothy skirts whirling around them. “Look like a dream, princess.” Spike pulled her close, into his arms. “Never seen you so beautiful.”

Dawn blushed, stepping back and he slightly pushed her away to look her over once more. “Oxford’s lucky.”

He grew pensive for a moment, one hand in his pocket. “Guess ‘m the lucky one. I had you all, the three of you, to m’self for the longest.” Spike tugged on her hair, careful not to mess with the pearls entwined in her curls. “Selfish of me to want to keep you, isn’t it?”

Buffy fought tears, knowing it would mess with her makeup, watching as Dawn sniffled a bit. “Don’t make me cry, Spike.”

Kirstie hugged his leg, gaining his attention. “You look pretty too, Daddy.”

Laughter surged through Buffy as she looked him over. Their daughter wasn’t wrong. He did look awfully pretty in that dark grey suit. Spike leaned down and scooped up their little one. “Princess, your daddy is not pretty. Handsome. Striking. Devastatingly good-looking. Anything but pretty.”

She grabbed his face in her hands, looking steadily into his eyes. “Oh. _Kay_ , Daddy. Us girls are pretty.”

Nodding once, Spike smiled. “That’s right, sweetness. You girls look a treat.” He grinned over at Buffy, noticing the tears she was fighting. “Enough of this tripe. Time to be moving. Got places to be.”

He swept from the room, Kirstie still firmly in his embrace, and bellowing for Robbie. “C’mon, Nipper.”

Gathering up her own long dress, Buffy headed for the door. “It’s time, sweetie.”

The rest of the day was blurred. Spike had a moment of disbelief as they stepped forward, Dawn in the middle, facing the minister in the reception hall. His glance over at Buffy, who had hold of Dawn’s other arm, had him shaking his head. The woman standing tall between them hadn’t even existed the first time they’d met, despite the skewed memories. And she wouldn’t have existed but for meddling from powerful forces – forces that had shaped their live for better and ill. And not one moment of it would he sacrifice; if it all brought him to this moment, it was well worth the living it. His girls were safe and strong, some of the strongest women he’d ever known. Filled with a sudden reluctance to let her go, Spike spun on a heel and glared at her. “You sure you want this, Bit?”

His jaw was tensed, the muscles flexing as his ground his teeth together. He could feel the confusion flowing from the two women, but he couldn’t speak for the sudden tightness in his gut. Buffy stared at him, her eyes boring into him, her eyes full of questions. “Sweets?”

A soft understanding smile broke out on Dawn’s features. She leaned into him, her head resting gently on his shoulder. “I love you too. And yes, I want this.”

He kissed her forehead, avoiding their gazes and fighting the sentimental tears that he refused to shed. “All right then.”

Buffy grasped his arm, squeezing once in sympathy. She stepped back, squaring her shoulders, as if preparing for a battle. The trio turned as one toward the minister and Dawn quipped, “Once more into the breach.”

Spike blew out an impatient breath. “Unto! It’s unto the breach!”

Neither of the other two could hold their laughter, and so it was with smiles instead of tears that they proceeded down the aisle toward Wesley.

What felt like seconds later, Spike watched while Wesley led Dawn around the dance floor, his eyes focused only on her features. All the stress and strain of the last few months had disappeared, melted away in the light of everything she’d wanted once she’d outgrown her crush on him. They looked great together, the dance lessons she’d insisted on showing their worth. Dawn laughed at something Wesley said, and he barely registered Buffy’s soft sigh from where she sat beside him. Kirstie climbed up onto his lap, settling herself into his embrace. Her head fell against his chest, and he felt Buffy lean her head on his opposite shoulder.

“Come along way, haven’t we?” She glanced up at him, a smile teasing about her lips.

His grin in return was broad. “That we have. Never would’ve imagined somethin’ like this when I rolled into town so many years ago.”

She giggled. “Aren’t you glad you have really poor follow-through?”

There was no need to elaborate, especially in front of their daughter. The twins had only a slight understanding about their parents’ secret identities, and neither of them wanted to disillusion them too soon. All they needed to know now was that their parents loved each other and loved them. The fact they were also super-powered wasn’t all that important.

“Can you and mommy dance like that?” Kirstie interrupted both his train of thought, and their conversation. “Sure can, sweetbit.”

Suiting actions to words, Kirstie was placed on the chair, and Buffy swept into his arms before any other words were uttered. “C’mon, Slayer, let’s show ‘em how it’s done, yeah?”

To the uninitiated, they didn’t look like much. Neither one of them stood out; aside from the obviously bleached hair, at first glance there wasn’t much to indicate they were special. Until they moved. And then it was apparent there was something other about them both. The newlywed pair were graceful, their moves well rehearsed; but the Slayer and her vampire owned the dance floor. In deference to her new in-laws, Dawn had opted for a sedate, cultured pre-meal dance hour. There was a waltz playing, and Spike glided into the first steps, Buffy matching him perfectly. They moved as if they’d been born to do this.

Spike’s smile was genuine, answered by a sparklingly bright grin from Buffy. He hadn’t danced like this in ages, and his feet measured the beat of the music, slipping right into the rhythm. “Happy?”

Hers got brighter and she answered with a nod of her head. “You know I love to dance with you.”

“One of the things we’ve always done well.” He twirled her out then back into his arms, her skirts wrapping around his ankles.

They passed the bride and groom, and Dawn smiled at them, then stopped. “You owe me a dance.”

He eyed her warily, wondering what she might have planned, especially when she waved a hand enthusiastically at the band. Immediately the tune changed, and Dawn nearly hip-checked Buffy from his embrace. “Move it, sister.”

“Dawnie. . .” She gave Buffy a cheeky grin, motioning to Wesley.

“Dance with my husband.” Dawn grabbed Spike away before there were more protests, and the unlikely strains of Queen filled the room.

“What’s this, Nibblet?” The endearment slipped out unintentionally and he frowned for a moment. Then the tune registered and his shook his head with laughter. “Really?”

“Yes. Really. Now dance with me.” Dawn lifted her skirts and started giggling as he swept her away from the other two, who were standing there staring at them.

“Bloke’s not quite Freddie, but he’ll do.” Was Spike’s only remark as the lyrics were sung. “You still reckon ‘m your best friend?’

“Always. You’re the one who’s kept me safe, even when Buffy couldn’t. You never treated me like a thing. . . I love you.” She held him tighter, then laid her head on his shoulder. “And I fully expect you to always take my side whenever Wes and I fight.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, pulling back to look. “Even when I know you’re acting like a dozy cow?”

“Especially then.” She grinned, hugging him again. “Til the end of the world.”


End file.
